


sound ON

by freshwoods



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Descriptions of Audioporn, Dirty Talk, I'm not sure how to tag this, M/M, Masturbation, Voice Kink, eventual Steve/Bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 08:03:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshwoods/pseuds/freshwoods
Summary: Steve didn’t know how he got here. He wasn’t sure which string of links he clicked and clicked until his rabbit-hole of searching for something—anything—out of the ordinary to get off to led him here.He craved something unexpected.But he hadn’t been prepared for this.-Or, Steve discovers audioporn.





	sound ON

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, hello, this story will be purely self-indulgent filth and I can't wait to share my kinks with you all.
> 
> Listen, the long and short of this is that I'm a big fan of audioporn and I've been wanting to write something like this for a while. So I hope you enjoy and I hope you stick around for more updates.

Steve didn’t know how he got here. He wasn’t sure which string of links he clicked and clicked until his rabbit-hole of searching for something—anything—out of the ordinary to get off to led him here. Sure, he didn’t mind the regular videos or written erotica—but lately those had felt too formulaic. There was no adventure, no surprise. He craved something unexpected. He craved something to make him hot all over, to make him ache, to get him going and keep him on that edge of pleasure for as long as possible before he fell into it, loud and messy. He wanted something that made him  _ feel _ . He wanted that hot jolt of pleasure creeping up his spine, wanted to get lost in the fantasy of someone else, to get out of his own head just for a little while…

But he hadn’t been prepared for this.

He hadn’t been prepared when he stumbled onto that nondescript sound player, hadn’t been prepared for it to disperse that smooth, silky voice. It settled over him like the night air; full of mystery and danger. The voice was deep, honey sweet, as the man got the recording started, already jumping into it. Steve heard the rustling of clothes as the man on the other end of the recording softly told him what he was doing.

_ I love stripping for you, baby. _

_ I know how much you like it when I go nice and slow…show off my body…just for you. _

_ Only for you. _

Steve listened with unrestrained rapture, soaking up every sinful word. He listened to the man seduce him through the speakers. Steve listened to the way the man’s breathing changed, the way his voice became raspy as he continued to whisper-speak into the mic. 

_ You like what you see...? _

_ That’s it, Baby, put your hand around that pretty cock of yours. _

_ Fuck, you look so good like this for me. So needy and desperate. _

_ No, no... let me hear you...please… _

Steve did as the man said, slowly sliding his hand down into his sweatpants, fisting it around his hardening erection. He let out a soft sigh, sitting back in the computer chair. He shuddered as he thumbed the tip of his cock, closing his eyes as the voice surrounded him. 

_... _ Fuck _ , look at you leaking all over. _

_ Can’t wait to taste you, can’t wait to have that cock inside of my mouth. _

There came the sound of something thudding from the other end, the shuffle and static of a microphone being moved. When the voice spoke again, it was a little nearer, a little clearer. Steve could hear the soft smack of his lips parting before he spoke again.

_ God, I love being on my knees for you, Baby. _

_ I know you love it, too. _

A whimper through the stereo.

_ Please let me suck your cock… _

The voice was softer now, had a pleading note. It made shivers crawl up Steve’s spine. He hastily shoved his sweatpants down his legs to pool at his ankles, stroking his cock as he imagined it—any face would do—one with pretty eyes and sinful lips, imagining that voice coming from them. Steve liked the idea of it, even if he was suddenly reminded of just how long it had been since he’d had that, of how much better a mouth felt than his hand.

The wet sounds from the speakers took him by surprise. As did the low moan that followed, so close to the mic that Steve could practically feel the vibrations where he sat. And it—it definitely sounded like the man on the other end of the recording was sucking on something. Steve strained his ears as the intermittent moaning continued, as the wet sounds turned to slurping—the faint sound of the man gagging, then the rapid, heavy breathing as he sucked in air.

Steve fisted his cock. He felt warm all over. He wondered if the man was choking himself on a dildo—if so, how big? As big as Steve? Steve bit his lip and looked down at himself—head flushed red, leaking in his grip. He swiped the pad of his thumb over his slit, pressed down just a little right underneath it, and drew in a sharp breath.

_ F-fuck, Baby. _

_ Your cock is so big. _

_ I almost can’t take it all in my mouth. _

Steve listened to the sound of a small laugh, then a wet kiss—imagined it was the man kissing at the head of his dick, where his thumb still rested. He shivered, precome beading there before he swiped at it, stroking down over his shaft. He let out an unsteady breath as the man continued talking.

_ It really is a pretty cock. _

_ I love the feel of it on my tongue. _

Another slurping sound, another moan—then the hitch of a breath.

_ Shit, I’m so hard for you, Baby. _

_ Can I touch myself while I suck you? Please? _

_ …I promise I’ll be g-good. _

Steve’s own breath hitched at the way the man’s voice lowered, begged, at the last and final sound of a cap popping, then the sloppy sound of what Steve thought had to be the man on the other end of the recording lubing up his own cock and stroking himself. The rhythm wasn’t fast, but it was steady. Steve found himself mirroring the cadence, syncing his own hitching breaths to the other man’s.

Then the slurping sounded up once more, and it was almost too much for Steve.

His auditory senses were overwhelmed by the sloppy sounds of the man’s mouth, but the wet sound of skin-on-skin as the man stroked his cock—of the little whimpers and moans that could be heard, of the heavy breathing that came periodically.

_ I want... _

A heavy, panted breath.

_ You to come for me. _

_ …Want you to come on my face, Baby. _

_ Paint me up, mark me, make me yours. _

Steve let out a grunt, hissed out a “Fuck” through his teeth, and began to stroke his cock in earnest. He could imagine it, let the fantasy wash over him as the man continued to talk about how much he wanted it, how he couldn’t wait to taste him, how he was so close, how he just wanted to watch his baby come for him.

Steve’s hand moved faster, his breaths getting shorter as he chased his orgasm. He was close, too. He wanted to do what the man asked. He wanted to come across those pretty lips that only lived in his imagination.

_ Please,  _ ah _ , please! _

_ I want it. _

_ I’m ready. _

_ S-shit…I don’t…know how much longer…I can last… _

The last words were punctuated and stilted, as if he was talking in time with a particularly hard stroke of his fist. The man’s breath hitched, a louder whimper escaping his lips.

The sound went right to Steve’s cock. He closed his eyes, moaning as his orgasm overtook him, stroking his cock through it, until he was spent and sensitive and his hand was covered in his come. He felt rung out, limbs heavy—completely sated for the first time in longer than he could remember. Steve breathed hard into the room, his awareness coming back to him incrementally. It took another moment for him to register the sounds still coming through the speakers, but when he did, his dick twitched again in interest.

The man let out a string of moans, of whimpers, louder now than he had been throughout the whole recording.

_ F-Fuck! _

A gasp. The frantic, wet sound of him stroking his cock for all it’s worth.

_ So good. _

_ Love when you make a m-mess of me. _

_ I…I’m gonna… _ ah _ …gonna come… _

Steve listened as his string of moans petered out into one low, guttural, wrecked sound. He listened for the hitch of his breath, so clear through the microphone—then the absence of breathing altogether, the sound of his hand slapping against the base of his cock with every quick downstroke—

And then the break; the moment when the other man’s orgasm washed over him—the near-yell, the stutter in the skin-on-skin sounds—the ragged, deep drags for air as the man started to come down.

He finally let out a long, shaky exhale, followed by a small laugh. It was low and raspy and sounded like the other man’s throat was a little raw. Steve liked it. He liked it a lot.

_ God, Baby… _

_ It’s been so long since I’ve come like that. _

He still breathed a little hard. Another little chuckle over the stereo.

_ I can’t wait to do it again sometime. _

Then came the click as the recording finished.

Steve only now noticed he was breathing hard, too. Only now noticed the cooling come still in his hand, the way his swiftly cooling sweat made him stick uncomfortably to the leather computer chair. He was definitely going to have to clean it. And remember to have a towel handy next time.

Because there was  _ definitely _ going to be a next time.

Steve bookmarked the page. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update, but I've got some things planned for this fic in the future, so you might want to subscribe for updates or follow me on [tumblr](https://freshwoods.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Kudos and comments are accepted and appreciated!


End file.
